


What You Make It

by Cinaed



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon)
Genre: Families of Choice, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Male Friendship, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-01
Updated: 2010-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 09:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gosalyn, Darkwing, and Launchpad, experiencing the trials and tribulations that come with being an unusual family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Make It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poisonivory](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=poisonivory).



> Written for poisonivory, whose Darkwing Duck posts always make me smile. (...And apparently inspire me to write fic!)

I.

_"In truth a family is what you make it."_ -Marge Kennedy

As his new neighbor, Herb Muddlefoot, pulled him into a sudden hug and chortled to himself in delight, Drake thought darkly that he'd have to look into making a law that required realtors to warn a prospective buyer about overly friendly neighbors.

"What a surprise! Go away for a weekend and come back to find someone finally bought the Loon home," Muddlefoot said, chuckling some more and finally releasing Drake, apparently oblivious to Drake’s wince. His injuries from fighting Taurus Bulba had mostly healed during the weeks it’d taken for the interviews to be done and the adoption papers to be signed, but Muddlefoot’s bone-crushing hug made all his bruises twinge.

Turning, Muddlefoot bellowed, "Honey, come and meet our new neighbor!"

Drake’s heart sank in despair. There were _more_ Muddlefoots? 

Sure enough, a hen and two younger ducks emerged from the house. One of the boys looked Gosalyn's age. Drake couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. He leaned towards the latter. 

"Hey, DW, what's going on?" Launchpad appeared from behind the moving van and looked curiously at the strangers. 

"Howdy!" Muddlefoot said, beaming. Drake scowled when he just extended a hand for Launchpad to shake. "I'm Herb Muddlefoot. This here is my family-- Binkie, Tank, and Honker. Family, this here is Drake Mallard, our new neighbor, and--" Muddlefoot faltered briefly. 

"Launchpad McQuack," Launchpad said cheerfully, grinning at the Muddlefoots. "Nice to meet ya." He turned to Drake. "Say, DW, didn't you tell Gosalyn that the biggest bedroom was yours?" 

Drake looked wary. "I told her that, yes. Why?"

"Well, she must've misheard you, because she's putting all of her stuff in that room," Launchpad said in the same cheerful tone as before.

Drake sighed. He really should have known. "I'll deal with her," he said and then put on a smile for the Muddlefoots. "Kids. Well, it was nice meeting you all." He forced a little fake-enthusiasm into his voice, though he was already pretty certain that Herb Muddlefoot wouldn't recognize sarcasm if it hit him with a four-by-four. 

"See you later, neighbor!" Muddlefoot called after him.

Drake rolled his eyes as soon as he was out of sight. 

 

**

**

 

"It's so nice meeting new people, don't you think?" Binkie declared, smiling warmly at Launchpad. "And I hear Mr. Mallard has a daughter. Is she Tank or Honker's age?" When Launchpad nodded and said she was probably the same age as Honker, Binkie said, "How lucky! I'm sure they'll become best friends." 

Launchpad nodded again, thinking to himself that they sure had lucked out on neighbors. The Muddlefoots were so friendly. Distantly, he could hear DW and Gosalyn's voices starting to rise. 

"Nice to meet you," he said, grinning. "I'd better go help DW." 

"Are you helping them move in, dear?" asked Binkie. 

Launchpad smiled. "Oh, no, I'm living here too." 

Binkie blinked, looking surprised for a moment. Then she recovered and began to beam. "Oh, well, that's just so sweet. You know, St. Canard is very friendly towards people like you and Mr. Mallard. Herb, isn't one of your cousins living with another duck just across town? Maybe she could introduce Mr. Mallard and Mr. McQuack to a few people." 

Herb nodded as Launchpad frowned slightly. He got the feeling he was missing something. Still, he wasn’t going to say no to meeting new people. "Uh, thanks," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's real nice of you."

Inside the house, something crashed. DW and Gosalyn's voices grew louder as Launchpad added, "Anyway, I really should go help out DW--" 

"Bye, dear! If you need anything, just let us know!" Binkie called after him. 

 

**

**

 

“I’ll have you know that was a cherished family heirloom,” Drake snapped as he swept up the shards of what had once been a lamp.

He looked up just in time to see Gosalyn roll her eyes and fold her arms against her chest. “I’ve seen that lamp at the store two blocks over from the orphanage. I bet it didn’t even cost twenty bucks.”

Drake opened his beak to point out that it had actually cost thirty when Launchpad stuck his head into the room and asked, “Need some help there, DW, Gos?”

“You can help Gosalyn put her things in _her_ room,” said Drake. He ignored Gosalyn’s dirty look.

“Sure thing,” Launchpad said, grinning as he bent to pick up one of the boxes marked ‘Gosalyn’s belongings.’ “Say, Gos, you should meet the Muddlefoots next door. They seem really nice. And there’s a kid your age!”

Drake snorted but didn’t comment as Gosalyn perked up.

“Dad, can I go meet the Muddlefoots?” she asked, turning a bright smile on him, their argument apparently already forgotten.

The smile and the fact that she’d called him dad made him helpless to resist the request, and he nodded. Besides, that Honker boy had seemed less…Muddlefoot-ish than the others. Perhaps he was an atavism of an earlier, more intelligent generation. “Go ahead. Launchpad and I will put your things in your room and you can unpack later.”

“Keen gear,” Gosalyn said happily and hugged him before she raced from the room.

Drake watched her go, feeling a warm glow in his chest. When he looked at Launchpad, the other duck wore a sentimental smile and his eyes were suspiciously bright. Drake cleared his throat. “Come on, LP, just let me throw away this lamp and then we can move Gosalyn’s things.”

 

**

**

 

That night, Darkwing tried to cook. It was…pretty much a disaster. Darkwing made a mean breakfast, but apparently he was new to the whole dinner concept. Gosalyn guessed being a superhero meant eating a lot of take-out or skipping dinner or something.

Gosalyn wasn’t about to say anything, though, not when Darkwing was still looking a little wild-eyed and the kitchen smelled like the stuff that came out of fire extinguishers-- man, the smell almost made her miss the orphanage.

While Darkwing muttered under his breath and went to call a nearby Chinese place, she caught Launchpad’s eye and gave him a meaningful look. Somebody needed to get Darkwing a cookbook, and seeing as how they hadn't settled on what her allowance would be quite yet, that somebody was going to have to be Launchpad.

Launchpad smiled back. “At least the vegetables look good, Gos!” Apparently he hadn’t understood her look.

Gosalyn sighed. Somehow, the peas and carrots _had_ been the only part of the meal to escape unharmed. “Yeah,” she said, forcing enthusiasm into her voice. Then she tried not to wince as Darkwing returned from calling for take-out and began piling far more vegetables than seemed healthy (or necessary) onto her plate.

“So, how did you like the Muddlefoots? Honker seemed…nice.”

There was something odd in Darkwing’s voice. It took Gosalyn a second to realize that was Darkwing’s own attempt at forced enthusiasm. She eyed him. Did he not like the Muddlefoots? Then she thought of the handshake Mr. Muddlefoot had given her, one that had actually lifted her a few feet off the ground and knocked her breath from her, and had to fight back a grin. Instead, she shrugged.

“They were okay,” she said, and took a bite of her vegetables, not missing Darkwing’s look of badly hidden relief. “Honker is pretty nice.” And hey, it’d be keen to know someone at her new school ahead of time, rather than totally being the New Girl.

“We’ll go and get you signed up for school tomorrow so you can start on Monday,” said Darkwing, as though reading her mind.

Launchpad’s spoon of peas stopped halfway to his beak. “Gos is already going to school?”

Darkwing blinked at him, even as Gosalyn grinned and said slyly, “Yeah, maybe I should be home-schooled.”

“Gosalyn, you know that I don’t have time to home-school you. And Launchpad, of course Gosalyn is going to school. She’s already three weeks behind in the semester. We don’t want her falling any further behind.”

“Right, of course,” Launchpad said. He drooped a little, though, as though he’d been hoping for more time to goof off with Gosalyn before she had to be stuck behind a desk for nine hours a day. Gosalyn sympathized.

While Darkwing was distracted serving himself some vegetables, Gosalyn placed a pea on her spoon, aimed carefully, and fired. Bull’s eye! The pea hit Launchpad right between the eyes, and he blinked at her.

She grinned. “I’m sure we can have _some_ fun this weekend,” she said, and watched an answering smile form on his beak and the slump leave his shoulders. Maybe she could even get Launchpad on her side, convince Darkwing to let her come along while they were fighting bad guys.

Hey, a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

 

II.

“_I have never let my schooling interfere with my education.”_ -Mark Twain

One of the perks about being a superhero, Drake thought darkly as he signed yet another paper for Gosalyn’s new school, was the lack of paperwork. You’d think he was signing his and Gosalyn’s souls away!

Gosalyn sighed, loudly, from where she was sitting next to the door of the secretary’s office, obviously itching to escape. Drake ignored her. He just had to finish filling out this final stack of forms, and then they could wander around the school, get a feel for it, and go home.

“Sir?” When he looked up, the secretary -- a tall, slender hen who’d introduced herself as Ms. Gallus -- smiled at him. “I see here you have a Mr. McQuack as Gosalyn’s other emergency contact.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Drake said, inwardly wincing and making a mental note to ask Binkie Muddlefoot if she minded being another emergency contact, just in case. After all, if there was a problem and Drake was unavailable, chances were that Launchpad would be too.

“I…see,” Ms. Gallus said slowly. “And he lives at your and Gosalyn’s address as well?”

Drake nodded. “Yes.” He went back to the paperwork, frowning at a poorly worded question. After a moment, he answered it, but made a little note saying that it could have been worded better and offered a better phrased question.

“I see,” said Ms. Gallus again, clearing her throat, and then Gosalyn’s laughter filled the air.

This time, Drake looked over at Gosalyn, who was covering her beak and trying unsuccessfully to stop her giggles. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Gosalyn got out between snorts of amusement. “Just…um…remembering something Honker said.” She burst into another round of giggles, shoulders shaking.

Drake looked at her for another moment, and then shrugged at Ms. Gallus, whose face was pink.

“Kids,” she said, smiling weakly, and then nodded towards the stack of papers. “Just need you to answer a few more questions and sign a couple more times, Mr. Mallard, and then I can show you and Gosalyn around. Oh, and we can peek into Mrs. Vine’s classroom!” Her smile warmed and she said to Gosalyn, who’d finally gotten her giggles under control, “You’ll like Mrs. Vine, dear.”

In a softer voice to Drake, she added, “Boella Vine is one of the best teachers in St. Canard. She’s won _several_ awards.”

Drake looked at Gosalyn’s innocent expression and wondered if Boella Vine had ever dealt with a child as spirited as Gosalyn. “I’m sure she is,” he muttered, and went back to answering the forms.

 

**

**

 

“And that’s Mrs. Vine’s classroom, dear,” said Ms. Gallus, pointing at one of the doors.

Gosalyn bit back a response that she wasn't anyone’s ‘dear’ anything, and peered into the room. Sure enough, she could see Honker frowning, his eyes focused on his teacher.

She eyed the short, plump cow writing something on the board. So this was Mrs. Vine. She didn’t look too bad. She reminded Gosalyn of Mrs. Cavanaugh, even, who’d looked world-weary at her ‘antics’ most of the time and then had almost cried when Darkwing finished signing the adoption papers.

“I’d call her out to meet you, but I do hate to disrupt class,” Ms. Gallus said apologetically. “But Gosalyn will get to meet her on Monday. Now, did you want to see anything else?”

“No,” Gosalyn said, before Darkwing could say anything. They’d already seen the cafeteria/gym/auditorium, the girls’ bathrooms, the playground, and the principal’s office (which Gosalyn made a note to avoid for at least the first month). That was all Gosalyn pretty much cared about.

“All right then,” said Ms. Gallus, bright smile never faltering. “I think you have everything you need. If you have any questions this weekend, you have my phone number.” She paused, hesitating, and then added quickly, “And let Mr. McQuack know he’s free to call me as well.”

Gosalyn stifled another giggle at Darkwing’s confused look. She couldn’t wait to tell Honker to add the school’s secretary onto the list of people who thought Darkwing and Launchpad were together.

“We’ll tell him!” she said, grinning and then grabbing Darkwing’s arm. “Come on, Dad. You promised me ice cream afterwards.” Darkwing shot her a look at that, one that clearly said he’d done nothing of the sort, and she smiled winningly at him.

After a moment, Darkwing sighed. “One scoop.”

“Keen gear!” said Gosalyn, resisting the urge to punch a fist in the air in victory. 

 

**

**

 

When they got back to the house, Launchpad met them at the door with a spatula in one hand, a chef’s hat on his head, and what looked like baking powder on his apron. He beamed at them both, and Drake tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. They’d only been gone for a few hours. That wasn’t enough time for much of a disaster. Besides, Drake didn’t smell smoke.

“I went to the store and bought a few things,” Launchpad announced as Drake and Gosalyn came inside, as though the fact that the kitchen was filled with grocery bags hadn’t made that obvious. He waved the spatula as he spoke, narrowly missing Drake’s head. “And I got out my grandmother’s cookbook.”

“That’s…nice,” said Drake. He pushed visions of rushing Gosalyn to the emergency room with food poisoning out of his mind. “Need any help?”

“No,” Gosalyn and Launchpad said in chorus, Launchpad cheerfully and Gosalyn with an odd sort of intensity. When Drake stared at her, though, she offered him a sweet smile that he didn't trust one bit and said, “I’m sure Launchpad’s a great cook.”

Launchpad looked modest. “Oh, I wouldn’t say _great_\--”

Gosalyn waved his protests aside. “Can’t wait to eat dinner,” she said brightly, and then turned to Drake. “I’m gonna go finish unpacking, okay?”

“Okay.” Drake watched her bound up the stairs, two at time, and called, “No running!” He wasn’t surprised when she ignored him. He looked at Launchpad. “You sure you don’t need any help?”

“I’m good,” Launchpad said cheerfully.

“Then wake me up when dinner’s ready,” Drake said, and headed upstairs as well, fighting back a yawn. It was still going to take a while for his body to adjust to sleeping around Gosalyn’s schedule.

 

**

**

 

Launchpad hummed happily to himself, stirring the soup and sprinkling just a smidge more pepper into it. Gosalyn’s idea to get a cookbook and surprise DW had been great. He was just glad he’d been able to find Granny McQuack’s cookbook!

He tasted the soup, and smiled. Yep, exactly how Granny McQuack had made it. He was still smiling when someone knocked on the front door.

When he opened it, one of the Muddlefoot boys smiled shyly up at him. Launchpad couldn’t remember which one he was, though, and fought hard to keep the panic off his face as the boy asked, “Hello, Mr. McQuack, sir. I was wondering if Gosalyn was here?”

“Yes. Gosalyn!” yelled Launchpad. He smiled awkwardly at Honker or Tank-- probably Honker, since the little guy didn’t look like a Tank, but then, it could be a family joke. Launchpad had had an extremely large great-uncle everyone had called Tiny. “Gos, come down here for a sec!”

“Coming!” Gosalyn yelled back. Her answer was followed quickly by DW’s testy, “No yelling in the house!”

“You’re yelling too!” Gosalyn pointed out at the top of her lungs as she raced down the stairs. DW didn’t answer. She smiled and, in a normal voice, said, “Oh, hey, Honker.”

“Hey, Gosalyn,” Honker said quietly, smiling back and fiddling with his glasses. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over.”

“Well, Launchpad was making dinner, but I could come over afterwards, I guess,” Gosalyn said, with a glance at Launchpad, as though wanting Launchpad’s opinion.

Launchpad grinned. Hey, the more the merrier. “I’ve got an idea. He could eat dinner with us, get a taste of Granny McQuack’s famous soup,” he said, and pointed his spatula at Honker. “Come on in. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

“I don’t want to be a bother--” Honker began, but Gosalyn’s excited, “Keen gear! Let’s watch TV while we wait, Honk!” drowned out his polite protest.

Launchpad grinned after them. It was nice to have kids underfoot again. He’d have to send Mr. McDee a letter, see how the boys and Webby were doing and what adventures they’d gotten into lately.

Humming to himself, he went back into the kitchen, where the soup was waiting to be stirred.

 

**

**

“So what’s Ms. Vine like, anyways?” Gosalyn asked, and Honker shrugged.

“She’s nice, insists that we all call her Miss Bo. Says that Ms. Vine is too formal.”

Aha. So she was one of _those_ teachers. Gosalyn grinned to herself. She’d have Miss Bo eating out of her hand in an hour, two, tops. She didn’t bother asking if the class was interesting. Honker probably thought watching grass grow was neat. Instead, she grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.

A minute later, Darkwing’s voice drowned out the TV. “Launchpad! I just heard on my police scanner-- some dastardly evil-doers are causing trouble downtown. Let’s go!”

“Oh, crap,” Gosalyn said with feeling as Darkwing, in full costume, came running down the stairs, saw Honker, and fell the rest of the way down the stairs. She winced a little at the crash.

Yeah, they probably should have put some more thought into keeping Darkwing’s identity secret.

“DW! You okay?” Launchpad’s chef hat fell off his head as he knelt down next to Darkwing. His look of worry deepened as Darkwing groaned a little and held his head. Then he saw Honker, who was frozen in place and staring with wide eyes, and offered up a sheepish smile. “Uh, DW’s a…big fan of Darkwing Duck. Made his own costume, even--”

Gosalyn shook her head, grimacing at Launchpad’s ultra lame attempts at a cover story. “Launchpad, just stop.” She shook Honker’s shoulder until he blinked and looked at her. “Long story short, yes, my dad is Darkwing Duck. No, you cannot tell anyone. Not your mom, not your dad, not your brother, not anybody. Got it?”

Honker blinked at her. “Okay,” he said at last. Then he glanced back at Darkwing and frowned. “I think your dad also has a concussion.”

“Great,” Gosalyn muttered, and then went to check on Darkwing, who was still holding his head.

 

III.

_"Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family." -Anthony Brandt_

__“How are you doing, Mr. Mallard?” Binkie chirped, catching him as he hunted for his newspaper. Whoever delivered the paper liked to make Drake guess where it was each day-- either at the foot at the driveway or in the bushes. Today, it was the foot of the driveway.

Drake blinked blearily at her. He’d been up half the night battling Bushroot, and now of course Gosalyn had to get ready for school. He thought almost wistfully of the days when he’d just been a crime-fighter, not a dad, when he hadn’t looked forward to the weekends, had in fact barely noticed them. But then he thought of the sleepy little grin Gosalyn had given him over her pancakes, and any longing for the past was firmly squelched. 

“Good,” he said at last. He picked up the paper, glanced at the front page, and scowled. Of course there wasn’t anything about his defeat of Bushfoot. Instead it was all about some new energy law people were protesting. Talk about having dubious priorities. After a moment, his tired brain remembered to be polite, and he asked, “How are you?”

“Fine, just fine,” Binkie assured him, smiling. “And Gosalyn and your Mr. McQuack?”

Drake squinted at her. He always meant to ask why she kept calling Launchpad that, but every time he decided the answer would just give him a headache. “They’re good. Gosalyn’s doing well at school.” She’d been there almost a month now, and Drake was rather pleased to hear she’d been behaving herself.

He nodded at Binkie and then headed back to the house. He was halfway there when Binkie called after him, “Oh, tell your Mr. McQuack thank you for that lovely cake recipe! And that I spoke to Cairina, and she and her friend will be visiting this Thursday!”

Drake stopped and closed his eyes for a brief moment, until he’d gotten his expression under control. Then he turned around, thinking longingly of the coffee and breakfast waiting for him inside. “Cairina?”

Binkie looked puzzled. “Yes, your Mr. McQuack said it was all right if she and Shelly visited sometime this week. Just let me know what time in the evening would be best for you both.” She smiled and added almost coyly, “And I’d be happy to take Gosalyn off your hands as well.” Had she just _winked_ at him? Yes, yes she had.

Drake just stared. Either he was missing something here, or Launchpad had been trying to set them up on a double date without mentioning anything of the sort to him. That…really didn’t seem like Launchpad, though. “I’ll, uh, mention it to him,” he promised, and then hurried into the house.

“Launchpad. Why does Binkie Muddlefoot think someone named Cairina and her friend Shelly are coming over for dinner on Thursday?”

Launchpad looked up from his breakfast, a look of mild embarrassment on his face. “Gee, DW, Binkie mentioned how we should make some friends, and I didn’t think it’d be a big deal if we had Herb’s cousin and her friend over…. I guess I forgot to mention it to you.”

“Yes, you did,” said Drake, a shade testily. But really, _Launchpad_ was playing matchmaker for him? Surely Drake didn’t look that desperate. He could get a date if he wanted. Which he hadn’t for…quite some time, but that was beside the point. Keeping St. Canard from destruction beat out dating any day of the week. Besides, he didn't need a _pity date_.

Launchpad rubbed the back of his neck and looked apologetic. “Sorry, DW.” Then he brightened. “But hey, I’m sure Cairina and Shelly will be nice! And I can try out this new recipe I found in Granny McQuack’s cookbook--”

“Uh huh,” Drake said skeptically, already 99% certain that this was going to be a disaster.

 

**

**

 

With Gosalyn over at the Muddlefoots, Launchpad busied himself with preparing dinner. Binkie had mentioned Shelly was a vegetarian, so he was finally going to get to use that sweet potato recipe. Oh, and that cheese and broccoli soup! Even Gos had liked that, last time he'd made it. And maybe-- He checked the clock. "DW, Cairina and Shelly will be over in about three hours!" he called cheerfully, and heard an answering mutter from the living room. 

Launchpad frowned a little. Maybe it was just his imagination, but DW didn't seem too excited about Cairina and Shelly visiting. Maybe he was nervous? It _was_ their first time having guests over for dinner. But the house looked clean and nice-- Gos had actually helped dust before she'd headed over, giggling, to hang out with Honker. And it was always fun to meet new people! 

Well, unless those people turned out to be villains, which actually seemed to be the people Launchpad and DW spent the most time with, aside from Gos. Huh. Well, he was sure Shelly and Cairina were nice people. And probably not villains. 

Whistling, Launchpad pulled out Granny's cookbook and got started. By the time the doorbell rang, the soup was ready in the slow cooker, and the rest of the meal was warm and waiting. He beamed at the array of food, pulled off his chef hat, and went to answer the door with DW, who, to Launchpad's surprise, was frowning a little. Well, maybe DW would feel less nervous once the dinner got started. 

Cairina Muddlefoot didn't look a thing like Herb, except maybe in height. She did seem to have the Muddlefoot friendliness though, laughing loudly and thrusting her hand at Launchpad and then at DW. Her cheerful greeting filled the room. "Hi! I'm Cairina and this is Shelly. We would have visited earlier, but with Shelly working the hours she does at her law firm, and my catering business finally taking off, we just don't have time to be social. Gosh, this is a _lovely_ home. Shelly and I have been thinking of moving to this type of neighborhood, now that we're considering--"

Shelly pressed a hand to Cairina's shoulder, and the hen fell silent. "What Cairina is trying to say is that it's nice to meet you," Shelly said with a warm smile. She held out a bottle of wine, which Launchpad accepted and DW looked almost desperately at. "Thank you for the invitation. When Binkie called and told us about you, we were so delighted." 

"Yes, well," DW said, trailing off into a mumble that Launchpad couldn't quite catch. Judging by Cairina and Shelly's puzzled looks, they hadn't caught his last words either. 

"Come in, make yourselves at home. Dinner's ready," Launchpad said, waving them inside. "I hope you like sweet potatoes!"

"I love them," Cairina gushed. "Oh, Binkie passed along that cake recipe, I hope you don't mind! It was delicious." 

Launchpad laughed at the idea of Granny being territorial over her recipes. "Oh, Granny McQuack never believed in keeping recipes a family secret. She said if it was good, share it." 

DW hovered around the table, looking awkward, as though he didn't know where to sit. Launchpad went to pull out Shelly and Cairina's chairs, and grinned as Cairina beat him to it, motioning for Shelly to have a seat and then flopping down onto one herself. DW finally sat in his usual seat, eying Shelly and Cairina with a vaguely wary look Launchpad couldn't figure out.

"So," Launchpad said, carrying the bowls over to the slow cooker and beginning to spoon the cheese and broccoli into them, "you said you were thinking about moving to a neighborhood like this? I'm sure DW could give you a few pointers. He's the one who picked out this house." 

"Oh, you didn't help him choose it?" Shelly asked. When he turned to look at her, she seemed surprised. 

Launchpad grinned. "Naw, I figured DW knew what he was doing." 

Cairina laughed. "Well, it's a great neighborhood." She leaned back in her chair, smiling at DW. "I hope you don't mind if we hit you up for some advice, Drake. You probably know what schools are best in the city, what with Gosalyn. Shelly and I want to make sure we're in the best district." 

"For...schools?" DW said, blinking. 

"Thank you, it looks delicious," Shelly said, accepting a bowl with a smile. Launchpad grinned at her. 

"Oh, yes," Cairina said. "I've heard good things about the public schools nearby. We figured that was one of the reasons you chose this neighborhood." 

"It was, but...." DW trailed off, every inch of him radiating confusion. 

"Oh, and if you had any advice about the adoption process, we'd really appreciate it!" Cairina beamed as Launchpad handed her a bowl. "We're thinking maybe two years from now, once Shelly gets that promotion she's due for, and my catering business becomes manageable--"  

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but I think I'm missing something here," DW said. He didn't seem to notice Launchpad offering a bowl to him, and so after a moment Launchpad shrugged and set it down in front of DW instead. He'd notice it after a minute or two. 

"Missing something?" Shelly looked puzzled. 

"I...you two plan to adopt together?" said DW, waving vaguely between Shelly and Cairina. 

Shelly nodded, still looking puzzled. "Yes, of course, now that that ridiculous law banning adoption by same-sex couples has finally been overturned."

"Same-- so you two are-- and you think _we_\--" DW laughed a little, shaking his head. "Now the 'your Mr. McQuack' thing makes sense." DW turned towards Launchpad. When he spoke next, his voice was very, very calm. "Launchpad, did you somehow give Binkie Muddlefoot the impression that we're living here _together_?" 

Launchpad blinked. "Well, of course, we are, we're--" Realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he blushed. Suddenly a lot of what Binkie had been saying made sense. "Oh. Uh, maybe? I said I was living here too." 

"Are you two not partners?" Cairina said in surprise. 

"_No_," DW said firmly, and Launchpad tried not to wince, even if it was true-- they _weren't_ partners. "Not that there's anything wrong with that-- we're just friends." 

Launchpad couldn't help but grin weakly at that. Friends. He didn't know if DW meant it, or if it was the first thing to come into DW's mind after hero and sidekick, but the word made something warm and happy form in his chest. "Yeah, we just...DW is raising Gosalyn, and I help out." He'd have to explain things to Binkie next time he saw her-- if Cairina didn't tell her first, of course. He rubbed the back of his neck and added, "You should meet her some time. She's a great kid." 

"I'm sure she is," Shelly said with a smile. "And I must apologize. Binkie and Herb have done this before, I'm afraid, leaped to conclusions--"

"Yeah, before I met Shelly, Herb got it into his head that the mayor was gay and tried to play matchmaker," Cairina said, laughing at the memory. "Now _that_ was awkward!" 

Shelly made a face at that, and then leaned forward. "So, how did you decide on this neighborhood, Drake?"

Launchpad watched, a little relieved, as DW took a deep breath and seemed to calm down. "Oh, there were many factors. The quality of education, the crime rates, the house prices.... After dinner, I'll go find my notes on the various neighborhoods, if you'd like." 

"That'd be lovely," Shelly assured him. "Actually, I just had an interesting case about one of the local schools...." 

She began the story, and Launchpad finally sat down. Maybe DW would find this whole thing funny, afterwards. DW seemed to be calm now, listening intently to Shelly and nodding, no longer pink in the face. 

Launchpad sat back in his chair and let the conversation go on around him. He thought instead about living here, as DW's sidekick and Gosalyn's...well, as someone looking out for Gosalyn. It was a good place to be, and maybe DW actually was beginning to think of them as friends. He must have grinned at the thought, because DW's voice broke into his thoughts. 

"Launchpad, if you don't quit grinning and staring into space, your soup is going to get cold." 

"Oh, thanks, DW," he said, blinking in surprise at the forgotten bowl. 

"I've been meaning to ask," Shelly said. "Your name is Drake Mallard, isn't it? So why does Launchpad call you DW?"

Launchpad and DW both froze. 

"Uh, funny story, actually, or maybe you had to be there," DW began, sounding only a little hoarse. "You see, when Launchpad and I first met...."

 

**

**

 

"I can't believe your mom thinks they're practically married," Gosalyn said with a giggle. It was the second or third time she'd said it, but Honker's expression didn't change. 

"Well, your dad and Mr. McQuack _do_ live together. And they're raising you. I can see why some people might assume--"

"Stop ruining my fun with your logic, Honker," said Gosalyn, and smacked him lightly on the arm. "It's _hilarious_. I can't wait to see their faces when I get home." 

"Well, I hope _they_ find it funny," Honker said, undaunted by her hit. He fidgeted with his glasses and cleared his throat. "I mean, no offense to your dad, being a superhero and all, but he is kind of...uptight. What if he gets angry? How do they both feel about same-sex relationships? We have a moose in our class with two moms, and some of the other kids aren't supposed to play with him because their parents don't approve." 

Gosalyn frowned. "Sure, Darkwing's got issues, but he's a good guy," she said indignantly. "He's not gonna care what people think about him and Launchpad. And he's not going to be mean to your cousin, either!" Still, her stomach twisted a little. What if Darkwing _did_ get angry? What if he decided that Launchpad shouldn't live there anymore? It didn't seem possible, but sometimes things were too good to be true. Maybe when she got home, Launchpad would be packing up and moving to an apartment, or-- 

"Be right back," she said, and ran. 

"Sorry!" she said breezily, bursting in through the front door and skidding to a stop in the dining room. She grinned apologetically at the group, relieved to see Launchpad and Darkwing sitting side by side, apparently no worse for the wear. "Forgot something." 

"In the dining room?" Darkwing said, eyeing her. When she just kept smiling at him, he sighed. "Gosalyn, this is Cairina and Shelly. Cairina, Shelly, this is Gosalyn." 

"Nice to meet you!" Gosalyn said brightly. She looked between Darkwing and Launchpad. Maybe they'd already figured it out and were fine with it. But maybe not. Maybe they hadn't stumbled onto the fact that everyone thought they were dating. There was only one way to find out. She took a deep breath, and then said quickly, "So guess what Honker just told me? Mrs. Muddlefoot thinks you two are married! Or, uh, dating, I guess."

"Yes, we figured that out," Darkwing said dryly, and Launchpad grinned sheepishly at her. 

Gosalyn didn't quite slump or anything over the fact that they were fine with it, but maybe she didn't hide her relief too well, because Darkwing added, "A simple misunderstanding. I've already explained Launchpad and I are friends." 

Gosalyn laughed. "I knew you'd be fine with it. I betcha the secretary at school thinks you two are dating, though. And definitely the mailman. And maybe Ms. Vine." She went to stand between Launchpad and Darkwing's seats, leaning against Launchpad as she did. She sniffed the air, recognizing that delicious smell. "Launchpad, please tell me you're saving some of that for me." 

"There's a bowl waiting for you in the fridge," he assured her, and grinned as she hugged him. 

"Choosing you as the cook of the family was definitely the best plan," she said, and watched in surprise as Launchpad blushed and Darkwing dropped his spoon in his lap. 

Still, Launchpad beamed at her like she'd just told him he'd won a million dollars. "Just wait 'til you try Granny McQuack's brownie ganache torte," he said.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Launchpad's recipe for broccoli and cheese soup is actually one I've used myself. It's delicious!
> 
> BROCCOLI CHEESE SOUP
> 
> 1 (8 ounce) package Velveeta cheese  
> 2 (10 3/4) cans cream of celery soup  
> 1 pint half and half   
> 1 (10 ounce) package frozen chopped broccoli
> 
> _Method:_
> 
> In slow cooker, combine all ingredients. Cover. Cook on low 2 to 3 hours. Makes 4 to 6 servings.


End file.
